Disclaimer: DA:O is the intellectual property of Bioware and EA Games, I am neither.
Title: Stumble
Rating: M [adult situations]
Pairing: Fem!Cousland/Alistair
Summary: [Chapter 2] Haven tested them, and Alistair sorts it out.
Wordcount: [Chapter 2] 2,659
Thank you for the reviews both here and at swoopingisbad. This story is in it for the long haul, and several more chapters are coming.
Haven had shaken them all, but Leliana seemed particularly affected.
The bard sat in front of the fire, busying herself, mending her robes. She hadn't spoke since they'd left the Chantry and Alistair felt unable to walk away, unwilling to leave her alone. He had some time, Elissa was likely handling the details of tomorrow's journey. He'd trusted her to this point and he would continue to follow.
Across camp, Wynne stepped from Genetivi and Elissa, and departed for her tent.
He paused at Leliana's feet, her eyes quickly finding his. "May I join you?"
"Of course."
Alistair sat beside her, back against the log but maintained a respectful distance. He gestured at her sewing. "I can't do that you know."
She stuck a free finger through a long neglected tear in his sleeve. The digit wiggled briefly, and retracted just as quickly as it had slipped through the fabric. "Oh believe me, we all know. You've had that since Lothering." She smiled. "It's so simple. I could teach you if you like."
"Or I could just pay you in advance for all future battle necessitated tailoring."
Wynne's warning came from behind them, her voice rang clear. "Don't let him fool you Leliana, Alistair is more than capable of mending his clothes. He's just lazy."
"Oh... she's senile." Alistair insisted, dismissing Wynne with a wave. "This delicate stitching is beyond me."
"Don't wave your hand at me, Alistair." She tilted her head toward Leliana. "If he's deft enough to sew his name into his socks, he can mend a shirt." Wynne smiled, and dipped back into her tent. She returned with some rolled up vellum. "Don't let him charm you into anything."
"I wasn't trying to charm her, it was a simple business arrangement." He looked back at Leliana. "One Sovereign." He didn't watch Wynne return to Genetivi, but knew her silence meant a hasty departure.
"I'll mend it for you, if you like." Her response was withdrawn, her fingers held the needle firmly, and she pushed it through the fabric.
He touched the yellow robes, folded them between his thumb and forefinger. His thumb slipped through a small hole. "These have taken quite a beating, perhaps it's time we got you some real armor."
"That's... unlikely." She'd been playful a moment before, but now her eyes focused on the fabric beneath her shaking fingers.
Alistair was helpless when it came to comforting those around him, especially women. He didn't know if he should be forthright, witty, or vague. He tried to think of how Elissa would ask her, how she'd helped him with Duncan.
He drew his knees closer to his chest; the splintmail more forgiving against his ribs than any of the bulkier scavenged plates. "Do you want to talk about it?" He winced at the moisture gathering in Leliana's eyes. He'd always thought weeping was a very private thing, but Leliana felt more deeply and openly than anyone he'd ever met.
Alistair watched as she struggled with her tears. Her stitches, once guided in a precise pattern, were now falling in a fractured sequence.
"If you don't want to, believe me I understand... I just wanted to offer. I didn't want you to think that you were all alone, or that no one noticed." Alistair was very quickly regretting his decision to come over. He should have let Elissa handle this. She was better at this sort of thing.
Leliana sniffed. "How could people do such a thing?"
Her question was simple, childlike in it's intention, and flooded Alistair with a sudden protective camaraderie. Leliana was just as idealistic as he was and whether he liked it or not, they had a similar naivety. "I don't know." He replied, shaking his head.
"It was just so awful, the things they said and... and in the name of the Maker." Holding back her tears only made her face red. She sniffed twice. "How could they do that?"
He grabbed her wrist. "Maybe you shouldn't be sewing just now."
"You were raised as a Brother... you must know how I feel."
"I'm not like you Leliana, I don't believe like you do." He chose his words carefully. "I won't pretend that I know what you're feeling... what happened in Haven was an abomination, as surely as anything that we faced in the Mage's Circle."
"An abomination?" Her accent melded seamlessly with her words. "Yes that's a good way to describe it." She set her sewing to the side. "I don't think that I was ready."
"The Templar's tried to teach me." Alistair glanced into the fire. "The reality is just so much worse. There is no preparing yourself for something like this."
"I meant ready to leave the Chantry." She wiped at her face. "I'm no innocent, I've seen and done things that I regret, but I was so hopeful. I really believed that the world was different, but it's the same isn't it?"
"No." Alistair furrowed his brow. "It's different because you are."
"You must think the worst of me. I swear, I don't always fall to pieces."
"I know... you found refuge in religion and they... perverted it." He breathed a sigh and his eyes flickered back to Sten, "I'd be more concerned if you felt nothing. Whether you were ready or not, this is where we are. You could have been a Sister for a hundred years and not have been ready for today." He blinked when he realized how deeply he was revealing himself. "Well... that's all I really have to say about that... I just... you aren't alone." He intoned the last part, not wanting undo any shred of good that he'd done.
She kissed his cheek quickly, her lips still moist with tears. The plump flesh passed over his stubbled, brightly coloring cheek. Alistair sat ramrod straight, eyes crashing to where Elissa stood. "Relax...She's lucky to have you." Leliana whispered with a smile.
He looked at the bard, lips turning up in a self deprecating smile. "If you say so."
"She cares for you very much. Surely you don't doubt that." Alistair knew that he shared a physical attraction with Elissa but was unsure that she felt anything more than lust.
Leliana pulled the robes back into her lap. "Now..I have quite a bit of work to do with these." She sniffed. "If you want your shirt mended, you'll let me be."
"What the lady wants." He stood, legs protesting. Alistair groaned, he needed to do less moving in his armor. All of this sitting, kneeling, standing was making him age prematurely.
"Thank you, Alistair."
He nodded, squeezing his hand into a slight wave.
Alistair couldn't grasp what disturbed him the most; he knew the about life, death, and the frenzy of obsession. The Chantry had taught him to stand against fanaticism, but they hadn't prepared him for the stark red reality of human blood on Haven's altars. It hadn't prepared him for the mutiny that came from above cultist corpses.
He had been rooted to the ground, unable to comprehend the uprising. Alistair had been dazed, unable to find the hilt of his sword while Elissa barely twisted out of the downward path of Sten's blade. It ended with a swift riposte and a graceful arc of the Cousland family sword. Sten conceded to her leadership, and Elissa had spared him.
In a single moment, Alistair's entire world had shifted. To him, the party seemed shaken, but they had settled quickly back into routine. Sten stood further from the fire, stoic and unapologetic for his attack, and silent since his brief revolt. Genetivi, Wynne, and Elissa hovered over a map at the heart of camp, preparing for the days ahead.
Alistair wanted nothing more than to speak with her, but Sten weighed heavily on his mind. If his talk with Leliana showed him anything, he could stand in for Elissa. Her eyes were on the mission and someone needed to help her. He resolutely set his pace toward the edge of camp to where Sten stood.
Alistair remembered all to clearly his immobility and the feeling of complete helplessness. This hadn't merely been a power struggle. The blades had traded killing blows.
The Revered Mother had been right, the blood of the Qunari's next victims would be on their hands. He'd be damned if it was theirs, or hers.
"Yes?" Sten's voice rumbled and sent a renewed bolt of anger through him.
Alistair set his jaw. He refused a few moments to calm himself, unwilling to grant the Qunari a shred of hesitancy. "You are up for first watch tonight?"
"Yes." Sten answered.
"Not anymore." Alistair blinked, breathing deeply through his nose. "Not any night after."
"My injuries are not severe. I assure you I am more than capable."
"Your injuries?" Alistair's breath whistled sharply through his nostrils. "I'm not concerned for your well being, Sten." He quickly glanced back at Elissa, making sure that his disbelief hadn't exploded through the camp. "What you did today... You won't ever get another chance."
"Are you questioning my honor or my ability, human?" Sten took a step closer, the only real menace in his sheer size.
To Alistair's credit he didn't step backward. "Funny, I didn't think that there was any honor in mutiny." Sten's face betrayed no emotion, but Alistair noted a quick change in his breath. "Look, I didn't come over here to start a duel or anything. She's made her decision and while I'd like nothing more than to leave you behind... It's not what she wanted, she's leading and I'll respect her, but I won't let you put us in danger again."
"You are upset."
"Obviously." Alistair's lashed out, chest crushed with the weight of his incredulity.
"Humans are guided by emotion. This was a personal matter of honor. Her leadership was called into question and I conceded victory." Sten's grey face was drawn in a detached expression.
"I'm being realistic," Alistair hissed. "What's to prevent further 'personal matters of honor'?"
"The matter is settled. I know this, she knows it, however, you do not." Sten crossed his arms against his broad chest. The Qunari paused, "I can only assume that she does not know that you're here."
"No. She doesn't."
"Would she approve?"
"Probably not, but when it comes to us... I mean the group, she doesn't really see straight."
"It is an honorable thing to side with your leader, but I will not give up watch."
Sten's face didn't betray a hint of expression and Alistair huffed in frustration. "Then you won't be doing it alone."
"It is foolhardy to deprive yourself of rest."
"If I wasn't watching you then believe me, I wouldn't be resting." His entire body was tense, shaking from the restrained confrontation. It was like they had been speaking two very different languages. "I'll see you in a few hours Sten."
"If you insist." Sten turned away first, looking out toward the treeline.
Alistair could handle the silent dismissal, but his stomach coiled with the heavy knowledge that he hadn't gotten through to the Qunari. The tightness only reinforced his decision to do what Elissa couldn't, should it ever come to head again.
Alistair retreated quickly, hoping that he'd avoided Elissa's attention. He needed to speak with her, see what the plan was, how Genetivi was doing under Wynne's care, and how soon he- they could back to Eamon.
He groaned when he realized that he had not. Elissa's eyes were on him, her brows furrowed in concern as she whispered, Are you all right?
His blood warmed at her gaze. Tonight he was nothing short of a volatile mess of emotion, and looking at her just made him all too aware of how tired he was. He nodded once.
Alistair reached his destination quickly and tightly bowed his head toward their newest addition. "Brother Genetivi, you're looking much better."
He was stiff and Elissa was nothing if not observant. He took a steadying breath.
"Wynne does great work, however I'm afraid that I'm in no condition to join you once we are in the temple." Genetivi's smile was grim and did not reach his eyes.
Elissa's eyes flickered between Alistair and Genetivi, before she pulled a diplomatic smile. "All the more reason for you to rest. Who knows how you will feel tomorrow? You are welcome to my tent tonight."
"Where will you sleep, Warden?"
Elissa eyes were on Alistair again, trying to read his expression. She seemed to remember Genetivi. "Don't worry about me, I'll share-" Wynne forced a cough and Elissa glared lightly at the elder mage. "- with Leliana."
"That's very gracious of you."
"I wish you could know how much we value your help." Her grasp of diplomacy was a sharp reminder of her lineage. She was Cousland, nobility that outdated even Ferelden monarchy.
Alistair knew they stood equal only as Grey Wardens. If they survived the Blight, she could easily slip back into her old life where he wouldn't be fit to serve in her household. He'd be a royal bastard with nothing but fading memories of her trembling fingers and her breath against his cheek.
"If you'll excuse me, Brother Genetivi."
"Of course, lady. I was just to about to retire."
Wynne stepped forward, "I'll help you get settled."
The Wardens stood alone, and Elissa's diplomatic smile dissolved into a concerned expression. Her eyes roved over Alistair's face, taking inventory of his expression. She waited for even the slightest arch of his brow, a curve of his lip. "What's wrong?"
If Alistair reached out, he would be touching her. Three nights without a moment was at once nothing and everything. He realized he couldn't break the tension between his shoulder blades. "Nothing."
She arched an eyebrow and stepped closer, "You look... you don't look like nothing's wrong."
"I... I just need... I really have no idea." Alistair shrugged. Her expression melted into something softer than concern.
"Today was hard. If you need to talk..."
Alistair snorted. "I can't keep putting everything on you."
She crinkled her nose. "I'm stronger than I look, but if you don't want to talk I'll respect it."
He nodded and reached out for the tips of her hair. Alistair pulled softly and let it slide between his fingers. "I think I just need to get away for a bit."
Elissa nodded. "Alone?"
He turned the corner of his lip upward. "Not necessarily." Elissa grinned impishly, and took a step closer. Alistair's heart skipped, a simple dip and his lips would cover hers. "I was actually thinking about asking Shale to go with me."
Elissa stood on the tips of her toes to peek over Alistair's shoulder. "Are you sure about that? She looks awfully busy." She slowly settled on the balls of her feet.
"What about Morrigan?" He turned and looked over in the witch's direction. Alistair clucked his tongue. "Just as I thought... stewing in her own friendless self imposed exile." When he settled back, Elissa was smiling. "I would hate to interrupt that."
"Are you inviting me or not? We only have an hour two before dusk and if you continue on like this-"
"Stop begging..." Alistair rolled his eyes playfully. "Come if you want."
"Let me just tell Wynne that we're going to collect firewood or something."
"Firewood? That's a nice cover, but it may lead to actual manual labor."
She was already moving around him. "I'll be right back."
"Seriously Elissa, I don't feel like dragging around bits of wood." She said nothing. "Clearly you're ignoring me... I can see that. I meant what I said though." Leliana looked up from the volume of his voice. "Elissa?"